TICEES

by Mills, Shae

  Chelan squinted against the brilliant glare of the ice fields, her reasons for waiting before entering the Dead Zone finally making their appearance. In the far distance she could see the Imperial fighters come and go silently, streaking across her field of vision within the blink of an eye, and with their passing she was set in motion. The next flyby was in six Iceanean hours, and in six hours she knew she would be dead.

  Chelan took a moment to review her decision, recognizing immediately that she had no other alternative. This was Korba’s home, the home of his people, and now she knew for sure what she had always believed: she did not belong. Besides, the ultimate blow she could deliver to Ticees was the death of his seed within her. She realized now just how hard he had worked in an effort to make her his. But that was irrelevant, and his last act had erased all the good that had gone before him. She loathed him, and she hoped that because of the love he said he had for her, her death would burden his mind and heart for all eternity.

  Chelan looked down, watching her step on the icy, hard-packed surface, and she shielded her eyes from the intense glare. Her mind traversed back over her ordeal, starting right back at the beginning, and she thought about Manza. She had never met him again after Korba had taken her, and she wondered what had ever happened to him. Korba had never mentioned him, and at the military meeting, the men had teased Tarn about his role in her acquisition, but they had only mentioned Manza in passing. Chelan smiled to herself. Korba probably still had him under lock and key in Stose’s lab.

  Chelan took a deep breath, and her lungs burned. Her body was beginning to cramp once again, so she reached inside her shroud and swallowed another pill. She might as well die comfortably, she mused to herself, and she almost giggled.

  Time passed, and then Chelan surprised herself by thinking of Marri. She wondered if, after Korba healed, he would Let her. Chelan suddenly felt warm inside. She hoped he would. He at least deserved some happiness and female companionship. Chelan was well aware of how deeply Marri loved him, and she knew that Marri would take good care of him, both on and off the battlefield.

  Time dragged on as Chelan pushed forward, and her mind continued to sift back over the years. She was surprised that most of her thoughts centered around RIBUS 7 rather than her family and Earth. She figured that was because of the momentous impact the whole affair had had on her. She also realized that her parents and family had already gone through the mourning process over her loss. But that was still to come for Korba, and she could already feel his misery.

  Chelan glanced back at the city, now only a speck in the distance. Then she closed her eyes. There was no point opening them again as the brilliance was beginning to blind her. She estimated that she had been walking for about four hours now, but her pace was slowing, and her hands and feet were numb. Her muscles were sluggish, and her thighs burned with her exertion. Her lungs heaved as the icy air ripped through them, and the taste of blood in her mouth nearly gagged her.

  Another hour passed, and she once again turned to glance at the city, but it was gone. Her heart stopped, and her eyes grew large. She watched the massive wall of churning white consuming the area that had once been Satanya. No wonder there had been so many transports being moved so frantically. It was one of Iceanea’s notorious and deadly storms, and it was headed straight for her.

  Chelan slumped to the ground, instantaneously hit with insurmountable sorrow and regret. Somehow, deep down, she had hoped she would survive. The fact that she had brought food and weapons was a testament to that. But now she was forced to confront her inevitable death, and suddenly she wanted out. She wanted Korba. She wanted his love, to feel his arms around her. She wanted to spend an eternity with him, but now she had but a few moments to spend with only memories of him.

  Chelan rocked herself as the first harsh winds began to buffet her. It was like a tidal wave, looming for kilometers up into the beautiful blue sky. Chelan hugged her knees and laid her head down as she began to weep. She had told Korba she would never see him again, and now she knew that was true.

  Thoughts of Fremma and Dar passed through her mind, and she cried out for them. She had never had the opportunity to say good-bye to her gentle Fremma, and she had passed up love for war with Korba. Her only bright spot in the whole ordeal was the fact that she had finally come to love Dar fully, experiencing all that he could give her in their final hours together. Chelan wanted so badly to apologize to them all for her shortcomings and the hardships she had caused, and most of all, she wanted to love each of them at least one more time, but it was not to be.

  Suddenly, she was hit with the brute savagery of the front, and it blew her across the ground with hurricane-force winds biting into her as it bounced her along its path like so much fluff. Chelan instinctively coiled into a ball, but with each impact her body weakened, and she could feel herself breaking.

  Then she was airborne, and she closed her eyes tight, hugging herself for what seemed forever. Then she hit the ground hard, and she was forced to release her knees, the violence of the impact stunning her. A heavy plume of snow and ice descended upon her, smothering her temporarily. Chelan gasped for air just as she became airborne once again; the winds carried her as if she were nothing but tissue. Then her battered body struck the ground one last time. She heard a loud crack, and all her senses instantly became numb. She tried to take in a breath, but there was no air. She felt a falling sensation as her frame twisted through space, contorting to powers not her own. And then her small world went black, her broken body swallowed by the alien planet. There her lonely soul came to rest, so very far from home, and so terribly far from the men who loved her.

  Chapter 16

  Ticees had spent the entire night walking the vast perimeter of the fortress walls, his mind and body drained. As morning descended, he sat looking out toward the Dead Zone, wishing he had the guts to end his miserable life. He had hurt the fragile, innocent, precious being, and he deserved no less. He had tried to possess her out of selfishness and greed, spurred on by jealously and unrestrained, wanton desire. He had lost control in the most despicable of ways, and now he questioned his judgment not only as a man, but as a ruler.

  Morning approached afternoon, and he was finally tracked down by one of his guardsmen. “The storm will be here in one hour, my Lord. You should seek shelter.”

  “Thank you,” he whispered. His eyes looked out over the vast desolation. “Send out the last reconnaissance mission now,” he ordered. “They will be able to make it back before the storm hits.”

  “Yes, my Lord,” replied the young man, and he left.

  Ticees knew that he had no choice but to return to his chambers, but his steps were heavy. It was time to make what repairs he could to the damage that he’d done. He entered his room and noted that his bed was empty. Slowly he approached it, and then sat down wearily. Had he really thought he might find her still here? He smiled wryly. If she never approached him again he would not be surprised. He hung his head and tried to think.

  Suddenly, he jumped to his feet. His first task was to find Chelan. She had resisted the drug and he had to find out what, if anything, she remembered. If he were fortunate beyond his wildest dreams, she would remember nothing. But if she remembered anything, anything at all, then he had more problems on his hands than simply trying to console her for his boorish behavior and his ultimatum.

  He searched Korba’s quarters, but she was nowhere to be found. The longer he hunted, the more he feared she had gone to seek help. And what if she had gone to Stose? He knew he had bruised her, and she had hit her head hard. Then his blood thickened. He ran his hands through his hair and attempted to calm himself. Even if she went to Stose only for her head, too many questions would be raised. If the doctor saw the bruises on her legs, that would be catastrophic.

  Ticees stopped and bound his scattering thoughts. If she knew he was more than capable and willing to dispose of Korba for her, surely she would not jeopardize Stose by going to him. Surely sh
e would understand that he would stop at nothing to erase any trail that implicated him in any wrongdoing. And since she was well enough to flee, that meant her head injury was not severe.

  Ticees was just about to calm down when another thought ripped through him. She was so small and she’d been so tight … god, she was so divinely tight. He shook his head, clearing the sordid visions that burst unbidden into his thoughts. He growled at himself and forced his mind to work for him. He had watched as he had taken her, and he had detected no blood visually or by scent. She was undoubtedly sore, as no woman, Iceanean or otherwise, took him in his entirety unscathed. But even if he had split her he knew she would not go to Stose, especially for that.

  Gathering his wits about him, he began to think methodically. She was either with someone familiar, or she was hiding. His instincts told him it was the latter. She would be too afraid of discovery to chance being in anyone’s company.

  He retraced his steps and scoured every corner, every nook, every cranny. He ransacked the workout area and combed through the Command Center, but still she eluded him, and he was running out of options. Returning to his main quarters, he pulled up scanners for the gardens, but everything there was routine, with no sign of her.

  His last hope was Salizar, and he barged into the man’s office, but he had not seen Chelan since the previous day, and Ticees’ body was becoming shot through with ever-increasing degrees of alarm.

  He rushed back to Korba’s chambers and began a desperate search for clues. The Imperial uniform he had given her was still there, so she could not have left the Palace grounds even if that were remotely possible. But her shroud was gone, and that was indeed perplexing. If she was attempting to infiltrate the Palace staff, what would she hope to gain by that? It would not be long before her identity was discovered and her cover blown.

  His eyes narrowed as he scrutinized every detail of the room, and then he noticed the spilt pill bottle on the table. He snatched it up. The pills were all gone, and his stomach turned. She was in pain, and his need to find her escalated. He returned to the scanners, every muscle in his body clenched as he called up the medical center, seeking out Stose. The doctor was there, hunched over a computer, but still no sign of Chelan.

  Ticees was beginning to feel ill; upheaval over losing her and guilt over his role in it raked deep gashes within him. Immediately, he began flying through the scanners of the surrounding corridors and rooms, but she was nowhere. It was as if she had vanished.

  Ticees stopped, his guts in a knot, his mind stymied. He had to find her, if not for her sake, definitely for his own. If she remembered anything after he had administered the Letting drug, she was a ticking time bomb. His chest constricted, but there was no other alternative open to him. He hit the main security alert.

  Instantaneously, the entire Imperial fortress was thrown into distress. Thousands of guards and warriors automatically sealed the vast Palace tight, and Ticees’ chambers were immediately filled with officers awaiting their orders.

  Ticees addressed the anxious men gathered before him. “It’s Korba’s mate, the Lady Chelan. She’s missing.”

  “For how long, my Lord?” asked one.

  Ticees winced. “I don’t know. I’ve been absent. It could have been since last night, but it is more likely that she disappeared this morning.”

  “What was—”

  “Just find her!” bellowed Ticees, interrupting his officer. “Turn this place upside down. I want her back here before the storm hits.”

  The room instantly emptied, and Ticees crumpled into his chair. “Oh god, Chelan. Where are you?”

  Time dragged on slowly, and one by one the reports began trickling in as each sector was thoroughly searched and sealed. But everything was negative. Ticees watched the information cascade over his console, and with each report, his disquietude deepened.

  Finally the storm was upon the Palace, and Ticees’ chief security officer entered his chambers. “My Lord, the entire area was been scrupulously checked and rechecked. She is not within the confines of the grounds or the Palace.”

  Ticees remained seated as he stared at the floor. He wished he could use sensors over the Palace, but the fortress walls had been developed to thwart such intrusion. He looked up at his officer as he shook his head wearily. She could not have simply melted into oblivion. “Alternatives?” he asked in a whisper.

  The officer shuffled uneasily. “She could have left on a transport, but with security, that is highly unlikely.”

  Ticees barely reacted. “How long before the heart of the storm passes?”

  “One hour, my Lord.”

  Ticees nodded. “I want a complete list of all the transports in and out of here since last night. I want the names of all the personnel attending the loadings, the dockings, and all the passengers in and out. I want inventories of the goods moved, and I want the names of all the security personnel. I want all the security images from all the flight decks for that time period, and I want all that information at my disposal here by the time the storm passes.”

  “Yes, my Lord,” responded the officer, cringing at the magnitude of his task.

  Ticees remained unmoving for the next hour as the storm raged overhead. Finally, all the reports came up on his console, and he turned to it. Four of his top officers joined him, and they began to glean through the information, the grueling task progressing painfully slowly.

  Then one of the men pointed. “There! There’s a discrepancy in the load weight on the transport to Satanya. Thirty-two people were to board …” The man typed away, calling up information from the docking platform at Satanya. “And thirty-three people disembarked.”

  The man continued to work as Ticees sat back in silence. “The load difference indicates that the extra person was of small stature.” The officer looked at Ticees. “It had to be her, my Lord.”

  Ticees did not speak. Finally, he signaled to the men, and they left him.

  The moment they were gone, Ticees called up security data on all connecting corridors, focusing on the connections used most often by the Warlords. Nothing. Ticees then did a security check on his own personal access tunnels. “Shit!” There it was. The codes had been used just before the shuttle left. She had managed to catalogue and remember his every move, using the information against him at this critical juncture.

  He noted the timing of the codes’ use and called up the security footage that coincided with it. There she was. He watched as she came to each intersection and entered the codes flawlessly. And when she finally stepped onto the flight deck, there was his security detail, distracted by the chaos produced by the herculean storm about to hit. Fuck! Could her timing have been any better?

  Ticees sprang to his feet, grabbing a large piece of equipment and throwing it with explosive force clear across the Command Center. He roared in frustration until his breath left him and his chest ached. Then he slumped into his chair and let his head fall back. She had outmaneuvered him. By all the gods he had ever heard of, the little alien had outdone him. No wonder Korba, Dar, and Fremma worshiped her. When she put her mind to it, there was absolutely nothing she couldn’t do, and his heart gave him a telltale ache. If only.

  Rousing himself from his raging thoughts, he stepped into action. He immediately mobilized a huge contingency of fighters and transports to search Satanya and the surrounding area. He also put out immediate bulletins to the forces in the surrounding cities, and within minutes, the entire countryside was being turned upside down.

  Ticees sat back. He could only wait, and the hours passed painfully slowly with no results. Finally he was forced to put out a planet-wide alert, and the entire Empire was thrown into action.

  Ticees was on the verge of imploding as too many emotions swirled into a destructive vortex of uncertainty. He was well aware of her brilliance, as she had aptly displayed it to him many times, but never in all his years as Emperor had all his forces been so effectively thwarted, and he was thunderstruck. His eyes re
mained fixed on the incoming data as he slouched in his chair, his emotions completely wrung out.

  Suddenly, Ticees was startled to his feet as his door crashed open and Toran flew in.

  “What in hell has happened?” raged the Warlord. “What has happened to Chelan?”

  Ticees’s face drained. He felt as though he was going to lose control, and he prudently resumed his seat. He had to keep it together, he had to remain calm, and if his mistake was going to remain hidden, he had to become a master of deception. Though he genuinely grieved for Chelan and wanted the gentle woman back by his side, his fear of discovery prevailed.

  Toran sat down heavily across from him. “How can an entire galactic Empire lose one little alien?” he whispered, his eyes pleading with Ticees.

  Ticees shook his head, his depression mounting. He started to speak, but they were interrupted as a wide-eyed warrior ran through the doors, not even bothering to announce himself. “Sire!” he shouted. “The leader of the final reconnaissance that you ordered out said he scanned an alien life form in the Dead Zone just before the storm hit. He picked up few details other than the location, as they had to bug out.”

  Ticees swiveled in his chair and called up a 3-D grid of the Dead Zone, and then beckoned to the warrior. “What were the coordinates?”

  Toran leaned forward and watched as the man entered the information and a small dot appeared and marked the last-seen location of the life form.

  Ticees called up the information on the suspect transport and noted its exact point of docking and its time of arrival. He forced his mind to work as though he himself sought escape within the Dead Zone, and he drew a mental line from the transport dock to the easterly edge of Satanya. He called up the information from the flybys and then sucked in a deep breath. If it had been her, she’d had lots of time to make it to the edge of the city before the first set of fighters traversed the area.

  Ticees swallowed hard as he entered all the parameters into the computer, including a brisk walking speed. The computer instantly gave him the feedback he was looking for. It would have taken her approximately five hours to reach the point where the life form had been detected, and that time coincided exactly with the final mission.